


Reciprocity

by satonawall



Category: Castle
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-26 07:27:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2643299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satonawall/pseuds/satonawall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally titled 'Five times Lanie and Beckett's friendship was all about Lanie', which probably sums it up pretty well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reciprocity

“Dr Parish?”

Lanie startled, almost dropping the scalpel she’d been washing in the most inefficient way possible and turned around only to be faced with the new homicide detective she’d promised to have test results back for by the end of the day.

“Detective Beckett,” she said, the full title and name feeling foreign in her mouth. Most detectives were just last names to her, but then again she was ‘Lanie’ to most of them and it would have seemed rude to go with just ‘Beckett’ after that. “I’m sorry, I didn’t have the time to look at your samples, I-“

She couldn’t help glancing down at the slab, the sheet covering the details but unable to hide the size of the victim. It wasn’t her first child victim, but Porter had got a little bit too chatty for Lanie’s comfort about the family’s grief, and sometimes it was just- harder.

It didn’t escape Beckett’s attention. It was probably stupid to expect it would have.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Just give me a call when you have the time to run tests.” She fidgeted a little, eyes going from the body to the clock to the obvious clean-up measures Lanie had been taking. “Are you almost off?”

“Yeah, how so?”

“Well so am I, and you look like you could use a little company…” Beckett shrugged. “I’ve been told I’m not a bad listener.”

It was a quick decision. “Okay.” Lanie made herself give Beckett a quick smile. “I’ll be fifteen minutes, tops.”

Beckett nodded. “I’ll wait outside.”

—-

“Hey Lanie!”

She almost jumped before she managed to calm herself down. It was just a dress, not even Kate Beckett would be able to look at it and detect who she was dressing up for.

“Hey,” she said as naturally as possible. “Do you need something? I gave Ryan those test results you wanted when he dropped by.”

“Yeah, I got them.” She was smiling at the dress. Lanie did her best not to look guilty. “I was just in the vicinity and wondered if you’d like to get a drink, but it seems I was too late offering.”

Lanie hid her smile by pretending to check something on the computer. “I do have my plans.”

“So who’s the lucky guy?”

“Oh, it’s-“ She tried to quickly remember if she’d spoken to Beckett about anyone just before going out with Javier, but came up with nothing. “It’s this one guy my med school friend Janet introduced me to a couple of weeks ago. We’ve been meaning to go out for a while but our schedules never seemed to align.”

Beckett gave her one of those knowing grins of hers that she probably directed at suspects a lot, expect friendlier this time. “Lanie, we all know it’s Esposito.”

Lanie almost dropped her pen.

“How’d you know?” she asked, only realising she was whispering after the words had already left her mouth. She switched into normal volume, trying to salvage whatever dignity there was left to salvage. “We were trying to keep it a secret.”

“Yeah, we figured.” Beckett continued to grin. “You work with a bunch of detectives, Lanie, it’s our job. Besides, Ryan figured it out the moment Esposito didn’t jump on the chance to detect who your mystery man was. You know how they usually get.”

Lanie groaned.

“I won’t keep you any longer,” Beckett said, looking at her watch with that grin still on her face. “Have fun!”

She could probably hear Lanie’s groan, but as soon as the door closed, Lanie stroked down the fabric of her dress and allowed herself a smirk.

Yeah, she would have fun alright.

—-

“So, what’s the problem?”

Lanie tried glaring at her, but Beckett just gave her a knowing look so she abandoned the attempt as futile. She _had_ been pretty obvious, she had to admit; her two-drink limit was only half a glass away, and they had only been at the bar for twenty minutes. Plus she probably couldn’t repeat what Beckett had just said if questioned.

Setting her glass down, she said, “It’s Ryan’s wedding.”

“What about it?”

“What if he brings a plus one?”

Thankfully, Beckett understood without a question who ‘he’ was. Being friends with detectives had its perks.

“He hasn’t mentioned anyone to me at least.”

“But what if he does?” Lanie looked down at her glass. “Not that it’s any of my business, but weddings always make people clingy romantic, and watching him romance someone is not exactly my idea of an evening well-spent.”

“I’m not bringing anyone,” Beckett said. “I can sit with you looking in the other direction and talking about something unrelated so that at least you won’t have to watch.”

She would, but then without a doubt Castle would find them at some point and either try to steal her away for a dance and then a dozen more or sit with them and probably accidentally comment on just the thing they were very pointedly not discussing. That, or he and Beckett would make those sneaky bedroom-but-also-googly eyes at each other, and Lanie really didn’t envision being in mood for watching potential workplace romances blossom.

“That’s sweet,” she said, “but what if there’s a case and you’ll have to leave halfway through? And don’t tell me you wouldn’t, because you definitely would.”

Beckett nodded as if to concede the point and tapped at the table with her finger a couple of times.

“Ask a friend.” She took a sip of her drink. “Someone definitely off-limits, romantically, but someone Esposito doesn’t necessarily know is off-limits.”

Lanie gave her an impressed look. “You are a genius, Kate Beckett. I know just the guy.”

She hadn’t spoken to Toby for a couple of months, so he’d probably be a little surprised she asked him, but on the other hand, when had he ever turned anyone down for a dance or ten?

—-

Beckett dropped by the morgue at the end of the day.

“You okay?”

Lanie looked away from the body, wishing with all her heart that was everything that was needed to get it out of her mind.

“I guess,” she said, putting a great deal of effort into making her voice steady.

“Lanie,” Beckett stepped further into the room, “we’re going to catch this guy.”

Lanie swallowed. “I know. It’s just-“

She could feel Beckett’s sympathetic eyes on her. “Do you want me to walk you home?”

Lanie took a deep breath. Logically, she knew that the fact that someone had paid a woman to become her look-alike and then killed her didn’t mean that she would be the next target, but logic didn’t really factor into her mental processes that much after a day spent staring at a dead body that could as well be hers.

“Yeah,” she said, letting her fear show. “Thanks.”

Beckett reached her and laid her hand soothingly on top of Lanie’s. “No problem.”

—-

“You two owe me big time for this.”

Lanie pulled another dress out of her closet and tried it against her body. Smoking hot, obviously, but not very seventies. She sighed and reached for another.

On the other end of the line, probably still at the precinct, Beckett laughed. “Don’t blame me for this. This is all Castle.”

“It probably doesn’t hurt to have him owe me a huge favour,” Lanie said, ruling out yet another dress.

“Mmmmm.” She could almost see, in her mind’s eye, the dreamy look on Beckett’s face. It had become familiar. “It really doesn’t.” Her tone changed, like she’d suddenly remembered she was still at work and so in public. “Any luck finding something to wear?”

“I’m on it.” She almost dropped her phone reaching for a sliver of red at the back of her closet that looked like it might be the hem of a dress.

“If you can’t find anything, I can ask Martha if her school’s prop department has something. It’s late, but she probably wouldn’t mind.”

Lanie opened her mouth to answer, but couldn’t get a word out staring at the dress she’d wrestled out from behind her winter coat collection.

The Foxy Brown Halloween costume had been a few years ago, but her body hadn’t changed that much. It would probably still fit. And once she’d have picked off the faux fur, it would even look believable.

“Don’t bother,” she said into the phone, “I think I found it. But you _seriously_ owe me for this.”


End file.
